


What lies beneath

by Ghilasmelana



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dark rangers, Forsaken, Gen, Undeath, Undercity, banshee - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-19 06:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghilasmelana/pseuds/Ghilasmelana
Summary: A short story about a banshee being resurrected as a Dark Ranger.First person POV. Written as a background story for my character.





	1. Chapter 1

When the disheveled female Forsaken first shoved the small and worn book into my hands followed with words: _Use it, it will help_. I thought that she was joking. But the look in her yellow-glowing eyes seemed sincere and so I kept the book in my hand while I tried to force this new body to move forward and leave the room.

It was difficult. The transition from incorporeal to corporeal left me feeling weaker than ever and I felt the anger and frustration well up in my heart.

Perhaps it was because this body was not mine, I thought briefly and as if to reassure myself I looked down on the free hand and quickly flexed the fingers. They moved smoothly but the sensation was new and dulled. I could still vaguely recall how it felt to be alive, to move, to run and fire my bow but this felt as an imitation.

The female Forsaken let out a soft cough which sounded as a paper crumbling through the dust. I saw her motion towards the exit with her arm, which, compared to mine seemed to barely hold together. I could see yellowed bones protrude between the worn and torn sinews and blue tinged skin. The sight made me appreciate the body I was given, despite its momentary disadvantage.

I made it down from the stone slab in the Apothecarium and slowly left the dim room behind. The body I now inhabited was still clad in the ranger uniform of Quel´Thalas and it felt wrong wearing it like this out in the open. My feet carried me to the larger hall which was assigned to my kin. It contained a few stone benches, weapon and armor racks and several metal chests. Each one had a number pressed in above its lock and I checked the piece of metal which hung around my neck and served as a twisted badge of my new purpose. The metal was worn, jagged and on it was a number seventy-nine, newly carved just beneath the face riddled with arrows – the Forsaken banner.

There was no real need for sitting down. Undeath forever removed any need for rest, comfort or tiredness but it felt more natural than standing so I moved to the bench closest to the chest assigned to me. I started to remove the armor pieces with almost mechanical precision while my mind raced through the events of the last few days.

When the call from the Dark Lady echoed through the halls of Undercity that all banshees were to assemble, I hardly gave it a second thought. My lady’s wishes were like my own. She was the one who offered us the sanctuary in the hostile world of the living when our minds wrestled back the control from the Lich King`s grasp. And she was the one I owed all my loyalties.

I arrived with the others as requested and we gathered in a large and domed hall under the fallen human Capitol. I could still clearly remember the one time I visited this place when I was still alive, when my homeland was not ravaged by the Scourge and when the city above rang with voices of joy, mirth and life. The contrast was stark, but I felt only the smallest twinges of regret. I was given a second chance when my soul was ripped out of my body and raised as a banshee. Another one when the link binding me to the Scourge was severed. And now it seemed yet another twist of fortune was brought my way.

Before us were bodies of many Quel’dorei. They were tossed into a small heap and some of them apart, some old and nearly entirely rotten others fresh, still clad in their clothing and uniforms. Some of them gazed at the ceiling with empty, dead eyes, some looked like they were asleep. I could see splotches and pools of red blood which seeped out of them and welled in the center of the room. Even though I couldn’t smell it my mind brought forth a vivid memory of the coppery and sweet scent of blood from the wounded. I have smelled it too often during my final days.

The orders were simple and clear: Find a body of your choice and prepare for the ritual. I scanned the bodies for any signs of finding the one which belong to me during the life. I knew though that such a chance was slim. I died a long time ago and whatever was left of my mortal shell must have been long ravaged by carrions or by some miracle buried to rest peacefully.

A silent whimper from the farthest corner of the room brought me from my search and I floated closer to investigate. Between all the bodies present I did not notice that there was one person still alive in the room. A female elf laid on her back, blood poured from the wounds on the left side of her shoulder and chest. I could sense her labored breathing, her eyes were half closed, pain written all over her features.

She looked familiar. I was certain I knew her in life, but I had trouble placing her face to the right people and events. “So…this is how it ends?” She whispered in Thalassian and I leaned closer. Something stirred in me, not pity but curiosity. Compared to the other bodies here she was in the best condition and her features were quite beautiful.

I hovered above her and gently touched her cheek with my see-through fingers. “This is how it ends, my dear.” I replied in elven and felt my lips curl up in a gentle smile. She would be perfect. Her hair was long and tied in a thick braid, her eyes were large with long eyelashes and her face had a sort of innocent beauty to it. I noticed a small birthmark under her right ear and my mind finally placed her where she belonged. I chuckled. What a perfect irony. She was the closest alternative to my own body.

She coughed, blood gurgled out from her throat and trickled down from the corners of her mouth. It was an oddly fascinating and beautiful sight. “Do not worry sister, I will make sure your body serves us well.” I reassured her and added with a bit of malice: “Though you will have to hurry up, we are about to begin.” I could have hastened her demise with my own powers but somehow the prospect of wrestling the body from her as she took her dying breaths excited me.

I felt myself forced inside my sister’s body just as the ritual began, the swirling of necromantic powers enveloped me, and I met her soul. She was frightened, hurt, screaming in agony and I relished in it. I collided with the very essence of who she was and had been. I enjoyed every moment as I tore her soul to shreds and felt my own self slowly merged with the flesh of my new body.

_It was magnificent._

A sound of footsteps brought me from my musings, and I raised my head to notice another Dark Ranger enter the room. She gave me a slow nod in a greeting which I returned.

“Get ready, we are to gather outside for the new orders.”

I nodded and tore away the remaining armor pieces then took on the uniform which was readied for me in the chest. As I pulled the black hood over my head and slung a new bow over my shoulder the feeling of dissonance between myself and the new body diminished. I had a purpose again and I would fire every arrow without fail or hesitation – _For the Dark Lady!_


	2. Chapter 2

„The Runestones are failing!“ I heard a desperate cry from the forward ranks. A cry followed by unearthly screams, howls and growling of the army which amassed at our borders.

I could feel my hands tremble and almost let the bow slip out, but a gentle squeeze of my shoulder gave me back a bit of my strength and I turned to look at my father. “Courage Sunshine.” He whispered plainly with a faintest of smiles. There were only five of us. We were stationed on the floating perch above the tree line. All of us here were the best long-range archers left in this part of the forest and all of us were here for one purpose only – to eradicate the enemy officers, to bring chaos into their ranks, to give our troops on the ground a few more moments. To buy the civilians in Silvermoon the much-needed time to evacuate over the sea.

My mind was racing with thoughts full of worry. Was my mother and sisters alright? Was my brother still safe with the other mages in Silvermoon? But I forced myself to focus. The amassed army below was halted behind the two remaining runestones and we fired one shot after the other to slim down their ranks and meanwhile our eyes looked for figures on horsebacks – the leaders issuing commands.

Dark clouds rolled in from the south and with a distant rumble I could feel the first drops of rain fall on my hood and armor. It was an unusual sight. Eversong forest was kept locked in a beautiful golden autumn by our mages and the weather same as the flora and fauna were regulated. But it seemed that the arrival of the Scourge disrupted the fragile balance between nature and arcane and soon the light drizzle turned to a heavy downpour.

“Captain, there is no way we can see our targets in this weather.” I turned to my father and kept out any traces of family sentiment out of my voice. He was my superior officer and I had to be a good example to the others and not let our family bonds show.

“Fire a flare to signal the mages to move the platform, we are useless here.” He replied and gave a sign. One of my comrades nodded and knocked an arcane arrow into her bow and fired. It rose up high towards the black clouds and shattered in bright blue sparks above our heads.

We waited.

The moments dragged by and with each passing heartbeat I knew something was terribly wrong. The mages should have moved us away by now.

“Captain?” I turned to my father but to my horror his previously composed face was suddenly ashen white, and a trickle of blood poured out of his mouth with a heaving cough. A quivering black arrow was deep in his chest and he toppled backwards.

“ _Ann’da!_ ” I cried in horror and moved towards him. My hands instinctively grasped around the arrow shaft and I tried to press hard against it to stop the crimson flow which poured from his wound. But it was like trying to stop the water with my bare hands.

“Listen Sunshine.” My father grasped my hands and pulled me closer. I could hear my heartbeat hammer against my ribcage as my mind tried to process what was happening, but I kept pushing it away in a denial. It was not happening. My father was alright, he was not dying, our land was not dying. It was just a nightmare. “ _Ann’da_ …” I whispered through sobs, somewhere I started crying and did not even notice it. My tears mixed with the heavy rain drops on my face and soon the platform was painted crimson beneath me as the blood from my father’s wound kept spilling. What my comrades did meanwhile I had no idea. It was not important.

“I have the arcane runestone Sunshine.” My father talked in labored breaths and tried to sit up. “You need to teleport below and escape.”

I clung to his hands which grew colder under my touch and all I could do was sob in horror. “ _Ann’da_ …I can’t…I cannot leave you.”

“Listen to me Sunshine! There is no time.!” He urged me and pushed me away just as his hand disappeared in his tunic and he took out a round orb. We all had one, it could cast a weak arcane barrier around us or in times of greatest need detonate in a wild explosion of magic.

I knew what he planned and yet my sluggish mind refused to believe it. “Take her.” Was all I heard before my comrades grabbed my arms and pulled me to the teleportation orb in the middle of the platform. We appeared below it in a matter of seconds and already could see the invading army march to our position. Whatever happened at the last gate must have gone terribly wrong.

“What about the Ranger General…surely she would…” I cried out in a raised voice in a futile attempt to make my voice stronger than the storm.

“The gate has fallen, that means Lady Windrunner has been…defeated.” My companion replied and I could see the horror reflected on her face.

“We have to move, if we run now, we can make it to the city gates.” Was all I heard from the rest of the group, but my body refused to move. “The captain is still up there!” I tried to argue.

“He gave us orders!” Was all the reply I got before they started dragging me with them.

I ran but I turned around and saw a flash of blue light as my father teleported to the ground. The invading army was not far away. They moved slowly, their undead bodies shuffled forward without haste, they knew they had won.

I could see my father stand there clearly, he was not bend despite his injury, he stood proudly and faced the invading army. He turned to face us with his usual soft smile, and I could read his lips as he mouthed: “ _Selama ashal'anore_ , Sunshine.” And with those words the bulk of the Scourge army launched at him. A moment passed and then a brilliant flash of blue flame detonated.

“ _Ann’da_!!!” I cried. I kept crying for my father until my throat was hoarse, and I could barely whisper. I cursed my body which kept running away, I cursed my companions who dragged me with them towards Silvermoon. I wanted to go back, I wanted to turn back time. But I knew that it was impossible.

Same as my father was now gone, so was our army, our Ranger General, our lands and our people. There was nothing else we could do but to run.

* * *

 

_Thalassian words:_

_Ann’da – Papa_

_Selama ashal’anore – Justice of our people_


End file.
